


Out of the Head

by ofheroesandhumans



Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mental Hospital, M/M, Mental Health Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-13
Updated: 2013-07-13
Packaged: 2017-12-19 07:53:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/881321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofheroesandhumans/pseuds/ofheroesandhumans
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A rainy day in July, a tall, bulky shouldered but incredibly fit blond merely shows up with bags on his shoulders in front of the clear glass doors to the center. The only thing on him to give him a name are the tags on a silver chain around his neck, nestled under his thin t-shirt. His hair was dripping along with every other part of him from the drenching rain, but like a man assigned to a bootcamp, he doesn’t fuss or complain, he merely waits until the doors are unlocked for the day of visitors who are bound to come for their loved ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Head

Patient number: 0107

Name: Rogers, Steven Grant

Diagnosis: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder  
Schizophrenic   
Obsessive Compulsive  
***  
A rainy day in July, a tall, bulky shouldered but incredibly fit blond merely shows up with bags on his shoulders in front of the clear glass doors to the center. The only thing on him to give him a name are the tags on a silver chain around his neck, nestled under his thin t-shirt. His hair was dripping along with every other part of him from the drenching rain, but like a man assigned to a bootcamp, he doesn’t fuss or complain, he merely waits until the doors are unlocked for the day of visitors who are bound to come for their loved ones.

That man was Steve Rogers, who was later helped inside and checked into the ward, given a pair of fresh dry clothes and a hot meal with the rest of the patients. Didn’t say one word to anyone around him , though he made it a point to smile and thank the nurses and the man who filled his bowl full of oatmeal and poured him a glass of orange juice. However, he frequently looked up to smile at the empty chairs around him at his table while he ate, as if he were dining with a table crammed with friends that nobody else could see. -- And Tony figured just that.

Tony Stark was one of the many doctors for the patients there, also one of the men on stand by, silently observing this new patient while drowning himself in a fresh cup of coffee. Deciding to introduce himself, the brunet swept over and sat his cup down on the end of the table, not going so far as to sitting in one of the seats this guy was smiling at, since he didn’t obviously want to cross a line. “What’s your name?” he asked, quirking a brow as he kept a neutral expression.

“Steve,” The blond answered, his blue eyed gaze flickering up to Tony as his smile faltered somewhat as he was rudely tugged from listening to the story Dum-Dum was rattling off to him and the other guys.

“Nice to meet you, Steve. I’m Doctor Stark, but that was my Father’s name, so let’s not call me that and just settle with Tony. Sound good?” Tony had drawn over a chair from a nearby table to plop down into on the end of the table, and Steve shifted uncomfortably under Tony’s lackadaisical gaze. 

“The chairs are an odd number.” Steve murmured, and Tony didn’t catch the buzz of words, and he leaned forward in his chair, trying to catch what he said.

“Sorry, can you say that once more? I didn’t catch it.” Tony explained.

“I said the chairs are an odd number,” Steve answered, after clearing his throat and spoke a bit louder. His gaze tore from the other’s features and he looked at his bowl of oatmeal, fiddling with his spoon absently.

“Oh.” Tony uttered, rising from his seat as he uncrossed his legs and picked up his coffee again, doing away with the chair that he had brought over. “Well, it was nice meeting you Steve.” he hummed, clapping the other’s shoulder gently before going off to his work again.

That was the first time he had met Tony, and he didn’t see him again until he wanted to a few weeks later.

***

Steve had been doing a test. Blink once long and hard, there were his men ready for order. Take the pills the nurse gave him, who looked like a girl from a fashion ad he had seen a few days ago in the cafeteria, and his men slowly faded from action. He hated that. Sometimes he’d sit on the edge of the bed, blinking hard as he tried gathering his men to him, and he’d end up with a headache and sleep it off right through visitation. It’s not like it mattered much to him whether or not he did, because nobody ever came to see him, nobody ever even sent him one letter.  
Tony walked in one day when Steve was in mid-long blinking, waiting patiently in the doorway with a clipboard tucked under his arm as he watched Steve. When Steve opened his eyes, the person he saw was Tony, and it nearly made him jump right out of his skin. That beefy palm came up to thwack himself in the chest as Steve blurted, “Oh god, don’t sneak up on me.” sounding breathless. Though, mentally, Steve was cheering himself on for making someone appear.  
“How are you doing beside of the heart attack?” Tony grinned, slipping inside the room with a soft laugh as he took a seat in one of the leather chairs, they were in every room for one on one talks if needed. 

Steve shrugged slightly, his grimace turning into a soft smile as he heard the other laugh. “I’m doing okay. I miss my friends, though.” Steve complained lightly as he clasped his hands politely in his lap.

“I was actually coming to ask why you aren’t at visitation.-- Why don’t you invite your friends of yours to come and visit you?” Tony suggested, crossing his legs as he sat the clipboard in his lap.

“I’ve been asking them to come for a while.Though they haven’t came.” Steve sounded slightly defeated that the troop wasn’t coming, but Tony took it in the sense that his friends weren’t supportive.

“I see,” Tony frowned as he nodded, “They’ll come around eventually, hopefully.” he tried to remain positive for the other and rose to his feet to go. Though, his clipboard slipped from his lap and banged across the floor to send a few papers and a couple of pens scattering. The doctor dropped to his knee, starting to pick things up though Steve beat him to it. Tony sat back on his ankles as he watched the blond on the floor, fretting over how to arrange the pens before deciding on color and alphabetically arranged the paper. Handing over the paper and pens, which he had to make sure weren’t cattywompus, he offered Tony a smile. And that’s when Tony filed Steve as obsessive compulsive. 

***  
The next time Tony ever hears a word about Steve, and sees him is when Steve is having a full throttle breakdown. All of this happening at two in the morning, when Tony’s on night shift.  
Inside Steve’s room, he was fast asleep, and that’s when the nightmares plagued him, making him kick off the blankets and whine in distress. When it starts, it’s all too quiet for anyone on duty to make note of, it’s when Steve’s sleepwalking starts and there are loud bangs and crashes to alert those on duty. 

Once Tony hears the grunts and yells, the scolding and the destruction, his full on bolting for the room. Opening the door and turning on the light to see Steve on the floor in the middle of his mess of broken things, fists clenched and to the ground as his head his bowed and he’s obviously crying with a frustrated noise. And the first thing Tony does, is shuts the doors to get the nurses to back off and give them space, because that’s what Steve needs, not to be swarmed and pinned like some monster. 

Approaching with caution, Tony knelt in front of the other, watching his back rise and fall with pants. His fingers are tentative, but they brush one of the arms that Steve’s face was buried into, and the arm pulls away with a soft sound that sounds more like a whimper that a child would be making. 

“Hey, now. It’s just you and me, Big guy.” Tony murmured, as his hand moved to Steve’s shoulder, rubbing soft circles to coax Steve up from his hunched position, and after a few moments, the shuddering other sits up. 

“I didn’t call you.” Steve protested weakly, and Tony raised a brow.

“Didn’t call me?” Tony echoed, confused and wanting an explanation behind that.

“You’re in my head just like the others. I didn’t call you. I don’t want you, I want Bucky.” Steve pressed the heel of his hands into his eyes so hard that he sees spots.

Tony watched Steve for a long moment, seeing a grown man in ruins before he spoke, “I’m real, Steve.-- Could the others in your head do this?” Tony eased a hand from Steve’s red and puffy eye to give it a high five.   
“No.” he choked, and Tony only smiles sadly at him. 

“Let’s get you up.” he said, lifting Steve under his armpits to his feet and onto the edge of his bed to sit before taking a spot beside him. “Let’s talk about Bucky. Maybe we can find him for you.”

And Steve obliged. Tony looked at him every moment he talked, feeling a well of sympathy fill up for this man. A man who ended up on the doorstep to a ward he didn’t even remember walking to. A man who didn’t have any other friends in contact then the ones suppressed in his head and a vacant memory of his fallen friend. But after that night, Tony was more than willing to be a friend that was outside of the other’s head.


End file.
